


The Culling Song

by thesunisloud



Category: Lullaby - Chuck Palahniuk, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Chuck Palahniuk - Freeform, Episode: e033 Cassette, Horror, Other, The Culling Song, lullaby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 11:44:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4745111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesunisloud/pseuds/thesunisloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What will happen on the day that Cecil sings?</p><p>This crossover should be understandable even if you don't know both fandoms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Culling Song

 

 

You came to a town after driving very far. You meant to drive as far as possible. You looked at a map and measured the roads to find the greatest distance from where your wife and child lay dead. You tried to find a distance great enough, but you failed. And so you just drove.

You came to this town, and it almost felt far enough. So you stopped. You rented a hotel. You looked around. You turned on the radio.

“This is a story about you,” the radio said.

“You were living an ordinary life with an ordinary family. You were a good husband and father. You even read to your son.”

Tears came to your eyes, but still you listened. You did not call the station and repeat to this man the words crouched in your head.

“You found a book in the library, of stories and songs. And of course, being the wonderful father you are, you read it to your son. Your wife sat by approvingly, watching the scene of father nurturing son.”

You listened, rapt. You had already taken the book inside with you from the car, and clutched it in your lap.

“You read him a song as a lullaby, and in the morning, he was still asleep. You could not wake him up. You ran to your wife, and she did not move from her place in her bed.”

You opened the book. It fell open to this page, now, so many times had you opened it. So little had you explored anything other than that one page in that one book. You read the verses about tired lions and settling flocks of birds as the radio spoke.

“All the mundane things happened that always happen when there is a death. You did not wait for the conclusion. You did not even stay in town like the police told you to. Instead, you drove.”

In the verses of the song, the hyena's breath grew heavy and slow as its laughter quieted.

“You came here. And soon, you will know the tune of this song.”

You looked up.

“Soon, all of this town will know the tune of this song. Soon, The Voice will sing. And we will, at last, all go to sleep.”

Something in your body motivated you to stand up, to walk forward, to unplug the radio. But still it spoke.

“Good night, Night Vale. Good night.”

 

 

 


End file.
